


Moving Stairs

by bhaer



Category: Being Human, Being Human (UK), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, Gen, a vampire a werewolf and a ghost live as housemates in scotland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:36:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bhaer/pseuds/bhaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From then on, they were friends. At first George and Mitchell would come into the library and talk to Annie, about how the moving stairs actually were quite dangerous, about how Professor Kemp was a knob who everyone hated, even in Annie’s time, about George’s dismay that his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons lost again. Then they invited Annie around with them. She began to sit with them at meals, watching as they chewed with hungry, empty eyes. </p><p>“Have a cup of tea!” She’d always urge come dessert. “I miss drinking tea.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving Stairs

Sometimes, she went days without speaking to another human soul. I mean, the ghosts were lovely. The Fat Friar spoke longingly of finding his door and leaving her to be adopted as the Hufflepuff mascot. That would be nice. Maybe only when her friends graduated. It was so odd floating into the common room now and seeing the girls she’d shared a room with gawk at her and the boys she’d dated back away slowly.

All the real, living, breathing humans could barely comprehend that one day she had been like them and the next she was transparent and cold. The ghosts had been ghosts for so long they barely realized that it was anything abnormal. They welcomed her. Invited to her to morbid parties where the music was low and sad and the food rotting and maggot-eaten. She was alone.

And then, one day she wasn’t. She liked walks outside at night. Always did. Probably what got her in trouble. It was just like her to sneak out of her room at midnight for a snack and trip on a trick staircase.

Anyway, so she was outside and there were two boys on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She edged closer, curious. They were Gryffindor and younger than her. New. She hadn’t met them.

“Just… run in and do your thing!” One boy snapped to the other in a thick Irish accent. This one was tall, slim and dark haired. Maybe seventeen? No, that couldn’t be right.

“What if someone sees or I run into… another… you know?” The other boy said. He was shorter than his friend and pale. He looked terribly uncomfortable.

“I think it’s safe to say that you’re the only werewolf at Hogwarts, George.” Said the Irish boy. Annie gasped and drifted as quickly as she could away.

That was the start of Annie’s fascination with the boys. The Irish one was named John Mitchell and everyone called him Mitchell. He was a sixth year and had hungry, dark eyes. The… werewolf was named George Sands and he was also a sixth year but unlike Mitchell had a warm, yet excitable countenance. He always had his arms full of some ancient scroll or some Elvish dictionary. They were inseparable.

Annie watched from a distance. She was scared that they would find her creepy or unsettling. Students normally did. It was one thing when a ghost was a proper ghost, like the Bloody Baron, dripping with blood. When a ghost was fifteen and wearing sweatpants, it was another.

There were many students at Hogwarts Annie could have followed. Some she had been friends with in life. There was even a younger cousin in Ravenclaw. But something about those two boys obsessed Annie. George was different, inhuman as well. He didn’t look like the werewolves Annie had studied in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He looked nervous and worried. She didn’t look like a good candidate for a ghost. It was a one-sided, awkward kinship.

Maybe Annie would have just watched them until they graduated if she hadn’t, one December day, knocked over a stack of books in the library. George was studying for Potions and Mitchell was drawing a lewd cartoon in a serious looking tome. They were discussing something… Some girl who had disappeared over the summer. Annie had heard the case rehashed an innumerable amount of times. Every student who’d ever read Sherlock Holmes had decided that they were going to uncover the mystery of Lauren Drake. The professors insisted that she had transferred to Durmstrang but no one accepted such a boring answer.

“I’m just saying, you were friends with her, weren’t you?” George was saying, his quill pointed menacingly at Mitchell’s chest.

“A bit… towards the end.” Mitchell said absently.

“I mean, wouldn’t she mention that she was transferring to a terrifying evil— _UGH_!” George screamed because lying on the ground, surrounded by a fallen stack and a cloud of dust, was Annie.

“Jesus, who the hell is this?” Mitchell yelped.

“I didn’t know there were child ghosts! Oh Christ!” George cried.

“I’m not a child! I was fifteen! I’m nineteen now. In ghost years.” Annie said indignantly.

“Did you… float into the wrong place?” Mitchell asked.

“No! I live here, you just weren’t supposed to see me.” Annie said. She stood up. Up close, George looked less wolfish than ever. He looked disgusted and was holding a book to his face as a makeshift shield. Mitchell didn’t look frightened at all. He was grinning widely.

“Shit! You’re the girl who fell down the stairs a few years ago! God, what was your name? Herrick was telling me about you. Allie?” Mitchell offered.

“I’m Annie. Annie Sawyer.” Annie said.

“You fell down the stairs? I always thought Hogwarts students died from being eaten by dragons or something.” George said.

“It was pretty sad, actually.” Annie said. George smiled faintly then paled suddenly.

“Were you watching us?” He cried.

“For a bit. I heard you talking last month about… you know, your time of the month and all.” Annie said happily. Mitchell raised his eyebrows slightly and his eyes seemed to darken.

George looked sick.

“I won’t tell anyone! I just liked that we were both different because, you know, I’m a ghost and you’re a… well, you know.” Annie said brightly.

“Oh, we’re not the only ones!” George cried. Mitchell elbowed him between the ribs.

“Yeah, there are tons of other ghosts here, _aren’t there George?_ ” Mitchell hissed.

From then on, they were friends. At first George and Mitchell would come into the library and talk to Annie, about how the moving stairs actually were quite dangerous, about how Professor Kemp was a knob who everyone hated, even in Annie’s time, about George’s dismay that his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons lost again. Then they invited Annie around with them. She began to sit with them at meals, watching as they chewed with hungry, empty eyes.

“Have a cup of tea!” She’d always urge come dessert. “I miss drinking tea.”

Sometimes they’d walk around the castle and skip stones over the lake. Sometimes they’d watch Mitchell practice for Quidditch. He’d move at a neck-cracking, breathtaking speed, swinging his half-ton beater’s bat behind him. George and Annie would sit on the sidelines while George called up Mitchell that “ _YOU HAD BETTER SLOW DOWN OR YOU’LL BREAK YOUR HEAD._ ”

And then, one day Annie came back to the common room with them. She’d watch the fire slowly fizz out while the boys sleep and when they emerged in the morning, yawning and groaning, there would be two cups of tea waiting for them.

“I had nothing to do so I went to the kitchens and…” Annie stammered. But they were grateful, though George complained that while she was down she might as well have brought up some sausages.

By Christmas break, it was decided that Mitchell was visiting George’s boring muggle family and Annie was tagging along.

“Great,” George huffed. “I’m bringing home a ghost and a vam… _A voracious eater_ ,” He coughed. Mitchell bit his lip and looked away. Annie had learnt not to question the awkward pauses or the looks the boys would share when they thought she wasn't looking or the way Mitchell's eyes got dark sometimes. 

Mr. and Mrs. Sands were confused, but polite. They demanded Annie sleep on the couch downstairs for proprietary’s sake. Annie didn’t argue that 1. She couldn’t sleep and 2. She was unwilling and unable to have some sort of supernatural three-way with George and Mitchell. Still, it was sweet. It was the sort of thing her Mum would have liked. She thought about her Mum and Dad and sisters. She wondered if they still thought about her.

  
A few days before Christmas, the trio decided to take a bus into town and visit the local pub. Mitchell claimed to have a magical ID that would let them be served and George was eager to get everyone out of the house before his parents went mad. The bus was packed with muggle families finishing up their Christmas shopping. A little boy stared directly at Annie. She wondered if he could see her. 

And Annie realized she hadn't been out of the castle since her fall and now she was floating through the start of a blizzard while Mitchell cursed and George muttered viciously about people who don't check the weather before planning an outing. 

And that was okay.

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually pure crack but I hope you enjoy it.


End file.
